LIfe of a SuperNatural: Book 1b Felicity's Story

"All around me, friend after friend is consumed by the fire. The flames laugh and cajole me to join them as they murder those I love. Soon they are gone and I am alone as ash falls like snow.
My eyes snap open. It is only 3:09 AM. I take deep breaths to calm myself. I am so close to finishing my mission and I must remain in control of my emotions and powers. It's my only option."

Felicity has been alive for a long time. On the run from Zeke ever since his sister, Melanie died. He has gotten much more dangerous now. She's been searching for Melanie's spirit in hopes she can use her to defeat Zeke. Is Melanie Amy? If so does she have to kill the only true friend she has made in a lifetime?


Author's note

*Please check out the sister story to this book: Life of a SuperNatural: Amy's Story*

4. Chapter Four


The next morning dawns early. Even when my nightmares aren't strong enough to wake me I am up before the sun. I go through my morning routine without giving it much, if any thought. At 9 o'clock I am racing down the roads again. I revel in the freedom but it is only a few minutes later that I am forced to slow down as I start to encounter traffic. The streets are too narrow for my normal maneuvers and while I would probably survive a crash my bike wouldn't and it would be near impossible to get another one, so I won't risk it. Besides, my new license doesn't have any speeding tickets yet and I'd like to see if I can break my old record.

I observe the town as I drive through. It is different than I remember but mostly the same. Geheim is a small town, and its economy is strong. The names of the stores and placing of things have changed but it doesn't affect things much. Geheim is the center of the supernatural community in America. Over half of the citizens are supernaturals which is more than anywhere else on this continent. Maria's would probably make her area qualify if she had chosen anywhere but New York City to create her haven. To my knowledge, Geheim and Maria's are two of the only 3 gathering places for us in America, and the third is incredibly small.

Even with such a large amount of the populace here either being supernatural or knowing of us, everyone is careful to keep it hidden. Secrecy seems to be ingrained in our nature. I find it strange that this is still so important in the modern world. Witch hunts are considered a barbaric part of history, not a rational solution. I maintain my secrecy because I have known that fear and have seen how easily humans can regress and turn against even their own family but most supernaturals have not experienced that. Yes, as a society we desperately cling to secrecy like a child clings to their blanket. It is flimsy but we hold onto it like it's the only thing shielding us from annihilation. I shake away my derisive thoughts. I am no better.

I pull to a stop in front of the local library and carefully park. I remove not only the keys but a pin of my own creation from the kickstarter. Even if they hotwired her, she wouldn't start. It is slightly paranoid of me, but I am not going to leave a million-dollar classic Harley on a public street without taking precautions. I walk up the front steps. It is a small place. My private library is nearly 3 times this size. I approach the service desk. The woman behind it fits her role well but her eyes are too calculating as she watches me for me to ever believe that she is a simple librarian. I check that no one is around and light my hand on fire for a brief moment. She nods and hands me the card key to the back room. She points at the door and returns to her work. Even if her eyes didn't give her away her rudeness would. The school is getting sloppy.

The back room is more of a waiting room, with plastic chairs and a single end table. It is divided in half by a long desk. Behind it is another for. I am the only person here. Several dozen clipboards are stacked on the end table and I grab one. Years of managing my company make filling in the application an easy if mind-numbing, task. Name, gender, DOB, powers, social security number, address, etc. etc. etc.

I am almost done when a different woman enters from the other door. She is tall and stern looking. She moves to the desk. She taps away at the computer until I am done and hand her the application. She feeds it into the document scanner and impatiently holds her hand out for my license and birth certificate. I hand them over. It seems rudeness has become a common thing among the school's employees. Once she is done copying them she directs me to stand on the ridiculous foot outlines that are painted on the floor for my school ID photo. She prompts me to smile but when I make no move to do so she takes the photo anyway.

She blatantly ignores me for nearly ten minutes as she does...... Something on her computer. Several of the machines behind her start humming. One I recognize as a printer but the other two I am unfamiliar with. When they are done I realize that one prints ID cards. Interesting. The third does nothing that I can discern. She turns back to me.

"This is your school ID. It doubles as a food discount card at most of the stores in the town. This is the schedule with your classes highlighted. During your free blocks, you are required to help at the school farm for at least 3 hours a week. You have to find your own housing, all the rooms in the dormitories are full. Classes started last week so you'll be expected to start Monday. You'll have to have a physical sometime in the next month. Any questions?" She says. Her voice is not as rough as I expected. I shake my head and she waves me away.

I walk back past the front desk. The 'librarian' ignores me. Seriously, what happened to being polite? They could at least say some form of goodbye. I shake my head.

As I walk towards my bike I see something that I really shouldn't be seeing. Some teenage boy is sitting on my Harley. He is tall and lanky. His smile is arrogant. I storm towards him, intending to throw him off my bike. He spots me before I reach him.

"Hey, babe. Is this your bike? Cuz I gotta say it's a nice ride but I bet I could show you a better one," he says while making some absurd motion with his eyebrows.

My eye twitches and I grab him by the neck. I push upwards enough that he stands to avoid being strangled. I scowl at him darkly.

"Get off my bike," I snarl into his face. He nods as well as he can with my hand around his neck. I let go and he runs off.

I carefully inspect my bike. The imbecile got handprints all over the frame and gas tank. I am briefly tempted to chase the punk down but ultimately decide against it. Honestly, is it so much to ask that people have a little respect?

I hop on my bike and go home. She's been needing some care anyway. 

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